


Low-Hanging Fruit

by mattressesflollop



Category: Doctor Who (2005), The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: Crack, Daleks expand their vocabulary, Established Relationship, Gen, Humor, M/M, Malcolm cleans up Skaro's power vacuum post 9x02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 09:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5822530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mattressesflollop/pseuds/mattressesflollop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Doctor drops Malcolm and Jamie off for a quick break, he isn't expecting them to hitch a ride to Skaro and apply their particular brand of spin to unseat Missy's Dalek High Command. As a bonus, the Daleks learn a new four-letter word, courtesy of Malcolm. </p><p>Post-TTOI Series 4 and DW Series 9. Language commensurate with what you can expect when Malcolm and Jamie are involved with anything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Low-Hanging Fruit

**Author's Note:**

> I was trying to write a serious fic about the Twelfth Doctor meeting Malcolm, who's stuck in prison awaiting his appeal, and the subsequent adventures and emotionally-stunted back-and-forth they'd have about Clara and Jamie. 
> 
> But then I decided to write a crack!fic. And veer it ever-so-slightly towards Twelve/Malcolm/Jamie.

Jamie's the one who finds the logs that Clara had left about her adventures with the Doctor. He doesn't read them as closely as Malcolm does, though; Jamie's usually off trying to charm the TARDIS into taking them to places where he can see some alien tits – for purely 'aesthetic reasons,' he tells Malcolm. This is his favourite way of getting the older man to bend Jamie over the TARDIS console and remind him precisely why Malcolm Tucker is the best he'll get in the universe, now that they're on a spaceship that can take them across said universe for Malcolm to prove it. The Doctor had found them in such a position once, months ago, and his left eye still twitches whenever Jamie gets too close to the joystick.  

Sometimes things go a bit pear-shaped, though, and then the Doctor ends up walking in on moments when Malcolm is trying to shove Jamie into the time vortex to avoid throttling him. Jamie feels a tad bit guilty about the number of ways that they've been mentally scarring the Doctor. On the other hand, he's also a bit proud of how red they can make the Doctor's ears, and how the Time Lord's eyebrows seem to be able to bristle like they've a mind of their own.  

So, as the Sane and Responsible one, Malcolm's the one who spends the next few weeks turning over the details of what Clara has written about her time on Skaro. The danger implied itches at Malcolm: he sees all of the signs of a political power vacuum, with Davros' death and the collapse of his Supreme Dalek and the rest of the High Command. (Despite everything that he's seen with the Doctor so far, the rise of the sewer Daleks baffles him.)   

There's also the matter of Missy, unaccounted for after the implosion. Malcolm highly doubts that she's dead, though. Clara's descriptions make her sound threateningly capable. Considering her crazy stalker love gift for the Doctor with the Cybermen, Malcolm is certain that whatever state Skaro is currently in, Missy wouldn't have left the planet without putting together a central command for her to use in the future.

One that Malcolm's about to tear down.

It's all too easy to convince the Doctor to drop him and Jamie off on a tourist location in the same galaxy, and surreptitiously plan the time to be almost a week after Clara and Doctor had first left Skaro. After their latest adventure, in which they'd had to rely on Jamie's knack for making the chaotic good choice, the Doctor practically shoves the two men out of the TARDIS with the excuse that all human pairs need some 'romance time to rebalance their hormones,' while he takes a much-deserved vacation to restore his sanity.  

Once the TARDIS departs, Malcolm and Jamie call in a few favours from the time they'd saved the crew of an intergalactic shipping fleet (neither they nor the Doctor had cared much that the crew were actually smugglers, which is a moral concern that Jamie only dwells on in his quiet moments). A few hours of travel later, they find themselves dropped off on the sandy outskirts of Skaro.   

\---

To Jamie's eternal glee, Malcolm and the Doctor often get mistaken for each other. It's something about the intimidating lankiness, fierce eyes, and unruly hair, he thinks. Sometimes Jamie likes to pretend to get them mixed up too, particularly during the times when they've saved everyone, and there are explosions in the background that light up the Doctor's old, relieved eyes and Malcolm's tired, satisfied ones. They're all running on adrenaline and sheer will, so Jamie just yanks whichever one's closer for a hard snog. After a couple of times of doing this, Jamie notices that Malcolm no longer looks like he's about to have an aneurysm. His eyes still get hooded and dark, though, when Jamie turns away from the Doctor's splutters to meet his gaze with a cheeky smirk and wide eyes.

It's a great way to fuck with their adversaries' morale and sanity, at least until Malcolm and the Doctor open their mouths and start their spiels. Together, they're a high-def surround-sound insult system, but whereas the Doctor tends towards technobabble and superiority, Malcolm gets sweary and his references still mainly involve Earth things going up to just the 21st century.

Approaching with caution, then, Malcolm and Jamie come up with a specific method to introduce themselves to their Dalek candidates.

As soon as the Dalek fixes its sight on them, Malcolm splays his arms open.

"Not the Doctor! Just the one heart. Scan me, go on."

After a few, ah, irreconcilable difficulties with other potentials to be the poster-Dalek for their coup, they finally find their candidate. This Dalek has a blue casing, and is firing at the rubble surrounding the dome that Jamie thinks is its house, and which is also a very good setup for a tit joke that is too easy to make. The other low-hanging fruit is too tempting to ignore, though, which is why Jamie dubs their Dalek Blue Balls of Fire (BBF for short and shits and giggles).

BBF looks roughed up, dripping with residual sludge from whatever had emerged from the sewers and tried to swallow most of the Dalek City. Evidently, the High Command that Missy has left in charge has yet to start cleaning up the city. This works perfectly to their advantage.  

As they've discovered, Jamie's unerring ability to channel his training as a priest into being a walking confessional is just as useful across the whole of time and space as it'd been in Number 10. The Daleks are just another addition to his long list of extraterrestrial beings who end up spilling the little details of their lives to Jamie, so Malcolm can then swoop in to take advantage.

It's a smooth routine, for Jamie to probe and prod for the Dalek's sob story, and for Malcolm to plant those small seeds of ambition in the Dalek. He lulls it into thinking that it actually can and should ascend to High Command, since it's literally just dug itself out of the shit left by those other Daleks.

Back on Earth, Malcolm had been able to indulge in both charm and terror to leverage the sad sacks in the party. However, ever since his bleeding-heart lookalike whisked from his prison cell, Malcolm's been relying more on his charm than his ability to browbeat others into submission. The Doctor's often the one who ends up insulting the beings they meet, in ways that Malcolm quite enjoys watching, which is why he's content to relinquish this role to the Doctor. And unless Malcolm wants their adventure to descend into utter chaos caused by the Time Lord and Jamie, he's the one who has to charm the offended parties before they decide to permanently silence all three of them.   

With their Dalek ensnared, it's just a matter of assembling its cabal – a process in which Jamie almost physically has to shake down some of the dense ones. Between the two of them, Malcolm and Jamie enlighten the Daleks with the terrifying mental images of Dalek dodgems and what else their bumpers could be re-appropriated to decorate. Jamie's the one who introduces the concept of hunting Daleks as a sport to this society. He gets as far as drawing up the point system that would accompany this game, before Malcolm decides to show the cabal some mercy and give them their marching orders.

They let the cabal loose to face the High Command that Missy's left in place. It's her scheme against Malcolm's, and her flair for the complicated means that her finely layered long-game will be too brittle against the icy onslaught of Malcolm's cold logic.      

\---

Safely ensconced on the outskirts of Skaro, watching the events transmit live from one of the Daleks in the cabal, Malcolm and Jamie watch the results of their work unfold as anticipated. Normally, Malcolm would prefer to be in person to witness the moment when his opponent realizes that they've been thoroughly destroyed by him. In this case, though, Malcolm isn't at all keen on risking Jamie's life in a room with Missy's Daleks.

Jamie whoops when the cabal disintegrates the entirety of the former High Command.

Malcolm's breath hitches at the beatific, deranged smile on the other man's face. He wants nothing more than to kiss the man right now. So he does.

"Now we finish the plan," Malcolm says, even as Jamie tries for another kiss. He holds a teleporter for Jamie to take the other end of, and they're beamed back into the city's council chamber.

"Hail Caesar," he greets the Daleks, his tone light even as his bollocking face slides on. He may be the charmer in their unholy trinity, but it doesn't mean that he's lost his touch to threaten and burn the fear of Malcolm Tucker into his target's very soul. Even if they haven't got souls. Especially if they haven't.

As Malcolm unleashes hell on the poor, unsuspecting Daleks, Jamie leans against the wall to settle in for the show. The gun that he'd wrenched off a dead Dalek when they had first landed is a reassuring weight strapped at the small of his back, though. He's learned never to be overconfident.

Malcolm goes in for the final kill.

"You're fucking lucky that you evolved the ability to rotate your factory-reject lollipop eyestalks 360 degrees, 'cause this is me telling you that you had better watch your backs. And I mean that literally. If I hear that you lot have done _anything_ outside this fantasy tit island of a planet, you'll see me there. And I'll bring Jamie."

One of the Dalek's weapon arms does a sort of wobbly flail.

"Jamie." Summoned, Jamie slides back to Malcolm's side, the teleporter held out.

The last sight that the Daleks have of Malcolm and Jamie is of Jamie waggling his fingers, with a gleefully threatening "cheery-bye."

\---

Somewhere, in another time, the Doctor dashes around a corner and skids to a halt at the sight of three Daleks facing him.

He sees the Daleks' guns twitch.

And then, a monotone chorus of "Shit. Shit," rings out. The lights on the Daleks' heads flash in a way that makes them look like terrified sheep, despite the complete lack of resemblance otherwise.

"It's Malcolm Tucker. Retreat, retreat," the one in the middle bleats, already trying to back up and bumping into one of the Daleks that's gotten a head start. They all reverse away down the corridor, still beeping "shit" at a speed faster than the Doctor thought they could move.

The Doctor gapes at the sight for a moment, before the retreating words fully sink in. Those words shouldn't even be in their vocabulary.

"Malcolm," he growls. "What the hell've you done?"

\---

The Doctor finds Malcolm and Jamie back where he'd dropped them off, sharing a smoothie and the same sharky smirks of supreme satisfaction. Jamie's eyes practically sparkle when the Doctor glowers at them.

Malcolm pushes out a chair. With a sigh, the Doctor drops into it. "I should've known that Skaro would be your idea of a romantic place."

"Just trying to keep the missus happy," Malcolm says glibly, and Jamie kicks at his chair.

"So how did the Dalek general elections go?" The Doctor raises an eyebrow when Malcolm gives him his familiar 'you're a hopeless idiot of a dreamer' look. "Or not?"   

"Yeah, we tried explaining the concept of democracy to the few first candidates," Jamie says. "But they kind of just… shut down."

"Short-circuited," Malcolm comments, his hands miming the way the Daleks had powered down when Jamie had gotten to the bit about stumping. Maybe the puns had been a bit too much for the thicker Daleks to process. Their eyestalks had already started drooping when Malcolm had gotten to the subject of hustings.

"But this High Command'll be shitting themselves for a while, we reckon," Jamie grins. "So if you and any of your future companions need some downtime, this century or so is a good time to pop in on."

The Doctor drops his head into his hands and groans.  

Malcolm smirks, and leans over to pat his knee consolingly. "There, there, Doctor. It's like when a wolf leaves its fresh kill bleeding at your door and then takes a shit because it's so proud of itself. Consider it a gift."

\---

The Doctor leaves Jamie in the console, trying to sweet-talk the TARDIS into putting on some Al Jolson, which the Doctor has had to wheedle her into never, ever agreeing to, and goes to find Malcolm in the kitchen.

The man's slowly eating his way through the pile of satsumas that keep mysteriously showing up in the Doctor's fruit basket.

"Why did you really go to Skaro?"

The Doctor asks it quietly, and Malcolm is reminded of their early days together, when the Doctor had seemed truly alien to him. Back when the easiest way to push the other from getting close was to ask 'who's Jamie?' and 'who's Clara?'   

"Jamie found the diaries that Clara wrote. She's sharp – explained the whole thing on Skaro with enough details that a kid could do a paint-by-numbers and see the clusterfuck. She wanted to protect you from what would've come."

The Doctor smiles. "Did she?"

"She had it written down as a to-do note at the end. She's very organized. I like that."

The Doctor watches as Malcolm goes back to eating the satsuma, seemingly finished with the conversation now that he's reached his quota of compliments for the week.

The thing is, the Doctor had figured out rather early on that he and Malcolm are similar in some of the ways that really matter. Clara had asked for the sake of the Doctor, and Malcolm had done it for both him and the other madman he was traveling with. He'd done it so there was one less threat out there in the universe to Jamie MacDonald.

"You're a dangerous man, Malcolm Tucker," the Doctor sighs, though his tone is wistful rather than disappointed.  

The corner of Malcolm's lips quirks upwards. "Well met then, Doctor."

**END**

 

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a peek at one of the ridiculous things I googled in order to write this:  
> \- can daleks rotate their head. 
> 
> Thanks for reading; hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> I'm in desperate need of betas / lovely people I can bat ideas around with for more Twelve + Malcolm and Jamie adventures. Ping me if you'd like! :)


End file.
